


You Who I Called Brother

by BanbiV



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Broken Heart, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), M/M, Minor Violence, Mordo is a mix of emotions, Near Death, Post-Movie(s), Stephen won't fight, all the feels, poor stephen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 07:04:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanbiV/pseuds/BanbiV
Summary: Based on the prompt from the DrStrangeKinkMeme: Strordo prompt: Post-film, they're fighting each other... or at least they could be, but Stephen's not even trying to hit Mordo and he's taking all the hits. "Why?" Mordo asks him. Stephen replies, "I prefer dying than knowing I couldn't save you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn't call it graphic violence, but the fight gets pretty intense.

Stephen didn’t want to be standing here. He would rather face Dormammu than the foe before him.

Karl Mordo stood at the entrance of the New York sanctum, his green robes appearing more menacing. The scars on his darkened skin were more prominent, aging him and speaking volumes of his past. In his hand was a long and curved dagger, cursive incantations were carved into it. A layer of sweat caked his face, his dark eyes were glowing madly with power, desperation, rage and determination.

“I see you are so _ joyously _ the master of this sanctum,” Mordo taunted him, pacing casually back and forth in front of the stairs. 

“Karl,” Stephen whispered his name, descending the staircase slowly. It felt like a safe zone; if Stephen took one step off them, he would be attacked. He stopped three steps from the floor. “Listen to me-”

“No,  _ you _ listen!” Mordo hissed, rolling the dagger in his hands and pointing the tip at Stephen’s face. “You...arrogant, selfish fool! You never listened. Did I not tell you there would be consequences? The bill always comes due!”

“Yeah, but have you lost your mind?” Stephen yelled, wringing his hands at his sides. “Killing other sorcerers,  _ innocent _ people like Pangborn, won’t solve anything! Karl, you’re not helping Kamar-Taj, you’re destroying it! You’re destroying the lives of those who supported us. If the Ancient One could see you-”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ mention that abomination to me!” Mordo bellowed. “That deceiver...she is the cause of all this. I now see my life’s mission.” He took a step closer towards the stairs, “to rid this world of all those who followed her footsteps. Including you, Strange.”

Stephen instinctively went into a defensive stance and Mordo chuckled, flashing his teeth. “Oh, you fool,” he sighed. It was the same stance he always took. Mordo attacked, using the propulsion of his boots to slam himself into Stephen. The blade nearly sliced through his front open, but the cloak helped Stephen move away. 

He dodged another blow and tried to conjure a defensive shield but Mordo was too fast. His fist connected with Stephen’s chest and he doubled over, wheezing. A large hand twisted into his hair and yanked Stephen back, bending him backwards. He saw a flash of silver as Mordo raised the dagger above him, ready to deliver a fatal blow. The maniacal glimmer in his dark eyes was terrifying. The twisted grin on his dark lips was something of a nightmare.

Mordo was a former shell of the man who’d saved Stephen in Kathmandu. There was no trace of that gentle, calculated, respectful man. Only a killer towered over him. Stephen pressed his lips together, mentally and physically bracing himself for the metal to pierce his flesh, for the stab of pain, for the darkness to claim him once and for all.

As the blade came down, the cloak launched itself off of Stephen’s shoulders, twisting itself around Mordo’s arm. It jerked back, nearly pulling Mordo’s arm from the socket. He cursed and shouted in pain as it pulled him away from Stephen. The cloak flopped around, gesturing to Stephen to attack.

Stephen merely rose to his feet, watching in despair as Mordo wiggled his arm free, leaving the dagger behind. He advanced on Stephen again, eyes locked onto to him. Stephen weakly put his arms up, but Mordo smacked them away, aiming a solid punch to his solar plexus. Stephen wheezed, the air knocked from his lungs and stumbled back. Another punch straight to his nose had him reeling.

Blood gushed down his face and Stephen spat it out. His eyes were bright green, his skin growing more pale as blood drained from his face. Mordo grabbed him by his shoulders and threw Stephen against the wall, watching him crumble to the ground. It was pathetic! The man wasn’t defending himself.

“Fight!” Mordo bellowed at him. “Fight me, you fool! You weak coward!”

He planted his foot on Stephen’s stomach and stomped hard. The wooden floorboards cracked under the pressure, splinters spiking into Stephen’s back. He groaned and cried out, feeling his ribs bend over. He put his hands over Mordo’s boots, but the nerves were shot and he couldn’t do anything. Blood outlined his teeth as Stephen grimaced. Mordo slammed his foot down again, hearing a satisfying  _ crack _ followed by Stephen’s pained scream. 

“Master of the sanctum, please!” Mordo said exasperatingly. “Kamar-Taj has fallen so far if a pathetic, little adolescent novice like you can steal such a title! No wonder the Vishanti have deserted you.” He bent down, seizing Stephen by the front folds of his sapphire robes and lifted him off the ground. Bracing one leg, he turned and threw Stephen through the air, delighted to see him crash through the new glass cases for the relics. Shards littered the floor, some embedding themselves in Stephen’s skin. He rolled and landed on his stomach, letting out a pained groan.

As Stephen struggled to his feet, Mordo was already there, his fingers wrapping around Stephen’s throat. With his increased strength from dark magic, he lifted Stephen effortlessly. His feet dangled by Mordo’s knees, the tips of his boots tapping him. He watched with a twisted sneer as Stephen’s face grew dark crimson as his oxygen was cut off. The blood ceased flowing from his nose and busted lips. His eyes were half open as he coughed, trying to draw any air in.

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Mordo tossed him as if he were a rag doll into another glass case. Stephen inhaled, coughing and crawling away. His body ached and he could feel broken ribs. He winced when Mordo grasped his leg and dragged him back.

“Fight me!” Mordo snapped, infuriated. He was blind with anger as he flipped Stephen onto his back. Mordo straddled his waist, gripping Stephen’s jaw in a vice grip, forcing their eyes to meet. 

“Why do you not defend yourself!?”

Stephen lay there in agony, seeing his battered reflection in Mordo’s eyes. His own expression made him realize the heartbreaking truth. 

“B-because…” he gasped. “I...I’d rather... _ die _ than live...knowing I couldn’t save you.”

Mordo blinked. For just a moment, his hard expression softened. His eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “What?” he breathed. Then his evil grin returned. “Oh, how sentimental! You let your heart rule your head.”

He released Stephen’s throat and rose to his feet. “Poor Stephen...you always were a bleeding heart.”

Stephen lay there under him speechless. He looked away, resting his cheek on the floor. “If you’re...going to kill me, just do it,” he said through clenched teeth.

“As you wish,” Mordo said, walking over to the wall by the sanctum’s emblem and grabbing an axe. He brushed his thumb along the blade, watching it glimmer in the light. Smirking, Mordo returned to where Stephen lay. He gripped it in both hands, raising the axe above his head. “Any last words?” he asked, expecting a sappy pathetic plea.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen whispered, a single tear pooling in his eye. It slowly dripped down the side of his face and plopped on the wooden floor. He closed his eyes and waited for the blow to fall.

Mordo hesitated. The axe grew more and more heavy as his arms lowered behind his head. “You truly will not fight me,” Mordo muttered, almost astounded. The axe slipped from his hands and thunked loudly on the ground. “Why? I don’t understand!”

Stephen flinched at the axe falling, surprised he was still alive. He lay there, weak and defeated, and glanced up at Mordo. The anger was replaced with confusion, almost...pity.

“Because…” Stephen breathed. “I have to believe the man I met is still in there. The one who told me...to trust my teacher and never stray from the path.”

Mordo stood there stunned. After all he’d done, Stephen wouldn’t stand against him. He would let Mordo kill him without hesitation. 

“I can’t live knowing that I lost you,” Stephen groaned, rolling onto his side and pressing himself up. He clutched his chest, wincing at the pain. “If I die, then I’d rather it be by you, Karl. So I know that I truly failed you-”

“Stop it,” Mordo squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head. “How…? How can you be so....”

“Arrogant? Stupid?” Stephen guessed.

“Pure,” Mordo gasped, looking down at him. “You...truly believe that?”

Stephen looked up at Mordo. The man looked truly terrified, like an overgrown child lost in the darkness. “Yes,” Stephen stressed the word. “You saved my life, Karl. Let me save you...please.”

For a single moment, the two stared at one another. One silently pleading; the other frozen in awe.

“It is too late,” Mordo whispered, more to himself. He was too far down this path of destruction. There was no turning back. “If we meet again, I will not hesitate to kill you. No amount of your pleading and tears will sway me.”

“Karl, no...please!” Stephen begged.

  
Mordo opened a portal and stepped through without another word. With a hiss, it closed and Stephen was left alone. He let his head fall, hitting the floor. For the rest of the night, the sanctum’s halls echoed with Stephen’s heart wrenching sobs. 


End file.
